


Ganymede

by chocoflo



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode Prompto DLC, Laboratories, M/M, Mpreg, Pining, Trick or Treat 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:49:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27277525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocoflo/pseuds/chocoflo
Summary: Nothing would stop Ignis from finding Prompto.  Not the eternal night drowning out the sun, nor the cold winds of Niflheim's snowy plains.  Not his friends, not his obligations, not even his own body.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 3
Kudos: 18
Collections: Trick or Treat Exchange 2020





	Ganymede

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ThatScottishShipper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatScottishShipper/gifts).



> An extra treat! Well, kind of a trick and a treat, really. But hopefully it's up your alley!

Ignis slid a hand underneath the swell of his belly, rubbing the area gently with his thumb as he quietly hummed, hoping to calm the child long enough to allow him to focus. He'd have to talk to Iris again when he got back. It hadn't taken long for him to outgrow his tight and finely tailored shirts in the beginning. His chest, actually, had been the first problem, given the size of his pectoral muscles even before the pregnancy; with just the smallest increase in size, the top buttons had strained to stay closed. She had managed to scrounge up suitable replacements from the streets of Lestallum, but he could tell in the next couple of months that what she had originally found, especially for an Omega his height, wouldn't cut it anymore, as his current shirt rode up, exposing flesh, every time he raised his arms. It was embarrassing, he thought, but luckily no one else was there to witness.

For the moment, anyway. If he had his way, and by the Astrals, Ignis Scientia always did his best to make sure his way happened, then he'd be joined very shortly by the only person in the world who never made him feel self-conscious. 

That the laboratory in Niflheim even had any power at all was some sort of miracle. Aranea had told him that when she had last been there, on a mission to stop what she had heard would be a super weapon of the Empire, something called Immortalis, the facility had been heavily damaged when the machine failed to launch properly and exploded. That was the last time she had seen Prompto - that anyone had seen him. They had fought some beast together and then they were separated. 

The one building had been completely demolished, but another one close by, one full of magitek and science experiments, had remained intact. By the time Ignis got there, after months of fighting - first his injuries, then his friends who said it was foolish, then the Niflheim elements themselves - the MTs were all silent, littered on the floor with pieces of their metal bodies strewn around them. Most likely from bullets. Most likely by Prompto several months before.

He had asked if he could venture inside alone; Aranea agreed, but only if he called the second something seemed dangerous. Ignis supposed she must have felt sorry for him, now heavily pregnant without his mate, blind in one eye. He had lost Prompto on the train, then Noct to the Crystal, then Gladio to the emotional fallout of the other events. If Aranea had as hard a heart as she wanted others to believe, she wouldn't have used her airship to get him halfway across the world when everyone else objected. So either it was pity for his situation, or guilt for leaving Prompto behind in the first place.

"He'll be in for quite the surprise, I'm afraid," Ignis had told her, quietly amused at the potential revelation, his hand gently pressed at the top of his round stomach. 

"Just...take care of the kid, okay?" He didn't know if she had meant Prompto or the baby itself - maybe it didn't matter, perhaps she really meant both. 

Her willingness to stay behind and let him have the moment to himself betrayed her assessment on the matter; if she had thought for a second that there would be a fight, she would have moved him out of her way and told him to sit while she cleared the building. There wasn't going to be anything physically dangerous because nothing had been left. Ignis was either going to need that moment to fill Prompto in on everything that had happened, or he'd need it to say goodbye. Either way, he appreciated Aranea letting him have it his way. And for not saying which she thought was more likely. 

The main lab was apparently right ahead, a light blue neon light flooding through the crack of the open door. The Empire's mad scientist, Verstael Besithia, had made monsters there. Monsters, and Prompto.

The door was more stuck than he would have liked, but when he finally managed to pull it far enough to squeeze inside, he was met with rows upon rows of tubes, all large enough to fit an adult man. For some, the glass was cracked, the liquid long seeped out into the floor, and the specimen inside removed, or perished. Some were completely dark, their support systems destroyed or purposefully shut down. The bright blue light came from those tubes still online, still somewhat functioning. The color tinge came from the liquid itself - some neon amniotic fluid that had encased every clone that had come through the Imperial army. At the top step above the storage floor, Ignis could easily tell most of the lit tubes were empty. And many of them were not lit at all.

He had to cling to the hope that Prompto was in one of them, somewhere. Either placed there by Besithia during their conflict, or by Prompto himself as his only hope of survival after the implosion of the Immortalis. Aranea had filled him in on all the messy business, of clones and scans and scourge. He didn't care. Prompto was still Prompto, no matter where he had been born or who had been involved. If anything, he would be extremely grateful for his mate's origins if they had resulted in his survival.

It had happened rather quickly, the whole matter of the two of them mating. Ignis had long taken an interest in the Beta, but refused to act on his thoughts and feelings given his station. After Altissia, he was lost when Prompto wasn't glued to his side. While Noct recovered, and Gladio wandered the streets alone, bearing the weight of the entire incident on his shoulders, the two of them were left very alone. Long enough that Ignis, his eyesight completely gone at the time, realized that the colors he had lost in his vision were still there in the smell of Prompto's scent on his neck, the feel of Prompto's skin in his hand, the taste of Prompto on his lips - the golden yellow and red and orange hues. He couldn't remember who made the first move, but it was natural, mutual. Both felt guilty for finding respite in such circumstances; but as the days passed, Gladio still out in the streets and Noct still locked in his room, their connection became the only tether available. The disjointed nature of the team continued, carried through to when they all boarded the train. Gladio and Noctis continued to fight, and Prompto and Ignis retreated to their room. Ignis' heat hit; Prompto, so lost in the feeling of being loved and with a lover - ignoring all else on the outside - bit Ignis' scent gland without thinking.

"Oh my gods, I am so, so sorry," he had rushed out to say.

Ignis had given him a fond smile, caressed his cheek as Prompto still hovered over him, starting to shake with the realization of what he had done. "It's alright. Better now than in a tent later with an audience, hmm?"

Everything else, Prompto had missed. Vision returned to Ignis' right eye after some time; his left was a lost cause, but at least he could manage to see what he was up against now, with the seemingly never ending lines of tanks before him. The prophecy took hold - Noct's sacrifice and their sun going out. And, of course….

"You need to be smarter about this, Iggy!" Gladio had yelled at him before he had departed from Lestallum. "That place is crawling with daemons - if Prompto had made it, he would have found a way to call, or something. You need to face the fact that he didn't survive the explosion and get over it and protect the kid."

"Nonsense," Ignis had growled. He knew Prompto had survived. The vision. He'd seen what was to come in Altissia, and Prompto was there. He'd survived the fall from the train, surely he'd have survived the Immortalis too. If he wasn't in stasis in the lab for his wounds, then at least Ignis could look for a clue as to where he had gone next.

The third row from the right seemed to have the largest cluster of light shining - a good place to start. He carefully made his way down the long metal staircase, one hand on the railing and the other still underneath his belly. The child was awake, still turning and stretching inside, pushing as much as it could against its boundaries, perhaps unable to rest while Ignis' heart rate was up in anticipation. He hadn't picked a name yet, hadn't even entertained the thought, insisting that Prompto needed to be involved first. He wouldn't even look at the ultrasound, lest he accidentally see it before Prompto got the chance. He knew it was alive, doing well according to his doctor, had heard its heartbeat on the monitor in his appointment. For now, that was all he needed; everything else could wait until he was whole again. 

Halfway down the row he had selected, he started to see occupied tubes. Clones that had clearly passed, some that had never progressed beyond childhood. One had advanced to old age. Another curiously had jet black hair. Ignis tried not to linger too long, look at their faces. When it was obvious that Prompto wasn't there, he moved on, not wanting to reconcile the implications of what and who he was possibly viewing.

Row after row, and no success. Occupied tubes, but no signs of life. His gait slowed as he tried to stretch out his back. He tried to just ignore the extra heaviness at times, but the more tanks he looked at with variations of the same face, abstract paintings or caricature portraits of his mate, the more he felt weighed down. Maybe he would have to call Aranea to come assist him after all.

He stopped, and turned, took a moment to catch his breath and refocus on what was important. That's when he noticed something from the corner of his right eye - a lit tube on the other side of this now last aisle with blinking lights and flashing instruments. Vital sign monitors. He hadn't seen them on, or at least not activated, any other tank. 

As Ignis quickly approached the tube, his breath started to get caught in his throat. The age looked right. The hair. There was a metal paneling covering most of his body, but Ignis thought for sure he could see something like a band around the right wrist. There was no reason for any mere clone to have such a thing. 

"Prompto?" he called, as he picked up his pace to reach the tank faster. 

Ignis quickly poured over every monitor and wire he could find. Heartbeat was steady. Oxygen saturation normal. Everything looked well kept and preserved. After a few moments, he located what he hoped was the mechanism for operating the machine, praying to every Astral and beyond that what he was about to do wasn't the worst mistake of his life.

With two switches flicked and a button pressed, the light went off on the tank and a mechanized motor hissed somewhere as it pulled upright and lowered to the ground. The glass began to recede, and Ignis could tell that he had initiated the sequence incorrectly, as none of the fluid had been drained and instead was gushing out into the floor. With nothing to hold the body up, the man inside crumpled forward, and Ignis did his best to catch him, trying not to take on his full weight. "Darling?" he quietly asked, lowering him to the floor. 

The body lay before him, nude. Ignis quickly took off his coat and placed it over him, rubbing his shoulders as much as he could, trying to stimulate the other back into consciousness. He was starting to feel sick, a great weight dropping in his stomach, when, finally, there was a cough, fluid spurting up out of the lungs and mouth and onto the hard ground. 

"Prompto? Prompto are you alright?"

The other man groaned and held his head, rolling gingerly on his side to sit up. He blinked several times and pulled the coat around him tighter, starting to shiver. "Wh-," he tried, throat not accustomed to speaking for the last several months. 

"It's me, Ignis."

"Ignis?"

"Iggy, Prompto, it's me, Iggy."

"Iggy? Who? Who is...Prompto?"

Ignis' face fell. This couldn't be. He simply must have been affected by the lingering hibernation, still adjusting to seeing and speaking and breathing on his own. "Prompto, try to remember. You are a member of the royal retinue of Noctis Lucis Caelum, Crownsguard, and--" Ignis licked his lips, finding his mouth suddenly very dry, despite the fact that he was sitting in a puddle of the stasis fluid, his pants soaked through and his shirt starting to stick the closer he moved to share his body heat. "Your." Did he really not remember? "Your mate?"

The other man blinked. "MT units have mates?"

Ignis propped himself up so that he could reach in and grab the other, pull himself close enough to smell the scent gland on his neck. He quickly let go. "You're not...him. You're an Alpha."

Before it could fully hit him, Ignis craned his neck, trying to see the rest of the row. There were a few more tanks on the end, each with vital monitors just like the one before him. He clumsily tried to spring up as fast as he could, trying to be swift while also being cautious of the slippery floor and his uneven balance. Finding out he was pregnant had been a shock, but not an unhappy one - it was certainly something that he had come to appreciate more and more the longer Prompto was absent. But now? He would give it up in an instant if he could only get half of his speed back. 

The three tanks at the end. All lit up. All with vital monitors. 

The first specimen had passed. The monitors gave a quiet blip of non-activity. The second was too young, a newer clone that had not yet been purged from the system or experimented on, had never progressed to full functioning. And the third.

"Empty," he whispered. "No." 

The clone came up slowly behind him. "MT unit has been assigned," he stated.

"Assigned, where?"

The clone said nothing, still trying to adjust his eyesight and warm up. 

"There must be something else," Ignis said, rounding the corner and going through each row again, rechecking and triple checking to make sure he hadn't missed something. The older clones couldn't be him; nor the younger; nor the ones with noticeable defects; or those that had genetic substitutions, most likely made by Besithia himself. And Prompto could not be one of the specimens that had perished. He was in the vision. He was alive. He had to be.

The clone was unable to keep pace, but tried to follow anyway. "Assignment?" he asked Ignis, when he finally caught up to the pregnant Omega.

"Go away," Ignis gritted out instead. To not find Prompto here was a kick in the gut; but this face and voice that was his saying these odd things, this body that was his smelling right but with the wrong dynamic, it was a mockery of pain. He took a deep breath and leaned up against an inactive tank, trying his best not to rub his bad eye underneath his visor.

The empty tube with the vital monitors. Someone had been in there, at some point, and had been alive enough to have functional readings and the ability to walk away. He just needed to go back and look again, look more closely, think.

Before he could move, his phone rang.

"Any luck there, Specs?"

Ignis took a moment to exhale deeply. "I'm afraid…."

"Good, that means the security footage I found isn't some random MT stumbling around."

"Security footage?"

"Thought I'd check just in case while you were exploring. The logs are set to only record when there's activity, so smile, you're on camera now. But between now and seven months ago when I was last here, there's only a single entry."

"Aranea, please do not drag this out any further than you need to."

"Okay, so I pulled it up. One of the tubes opened about a month after the explosion. Someone who looks a lot like Prompto walked out and left. But, you know, they _all_ look like Prompto."

"Which tube, Aranea?" he demanded. "Which row and which end?"

"Uh, hang on." There was a moment of silence before she replied. "Last row on the left. All the way at the end."

"That's him, Aranea," Ignis replied, a deep feeling of relief hitting him. "That has to be him. I'm coming back to the ship, does the facility have any logs from perimeter cameras?"

"Not sure. I wasn't much for guard duty during my stint in the Empire. I'll look."

Ignis put away his phone and turned to head back through the facility to the waiting airship. He was starting to get a little cold - a sensation that was somewhat unfamiliar these days, between the power plant in Lestallum and the extra weight of his growing belly. But the clone stood before him, lost, alone, only his coat around him to keep him warm.

"Assignment?" he asked.

Ignis sighed. He wanted nothing more than to be away from this reminder of his missing mate, this mirage. But clearly he was as alive as Prompto. Was technically part of Prompto. He could not abandon him to fend for himself, not without food or water in this darkened world. "Follow me."

Aranea gave him a face when she saw him coming up the ramp. "You're soaking wet, are you trying to get sick? Where'd your coat go-oh. Oh. Kay." She pointed to the clone. "So, you found a spare?"

Ignis shot her a look, waiting impatiently for the clone to finish coming up the ramp so that they could head to a more secure location. "He was the only living clone in the facility, I couldn't leave him there."

"But what are we going to do with him?"

"Find clothing for him, for one thing."

"Har har, Specs. Seriously."

"Take him back to Lestallum, I suppose," Ignis replied. "I don't think taking him with us to Gralea is a very good idea."

"Who said anything about Gralea?"

"Prompto left the facility. Where would he have gone from here?" Ignis asked. "You said the train tracks are only a few miles away and lead straight into the capital. Prompto knew that was where we were heading, he likely would have decided it was smarter to go that way as well."

"You remember what Gralea looked like when you were last there, right?"

"As a matter of fact," Ignis started.

"Sorry, poor choice of words. But even so, you were aware of all the daemons. It's a death trap."

"He is alive, Aranea."

"That doesn't mean we will be if we go too." She paused. "I'm taking both of you back to Lestallum and the Marshall and I can coordinate a rescue party to check out Gralea."

"You're bloody well not going without me," Ignis yelled.

"Specs, I'm not taking you. I want to find the kid too, trust me, I'll do everything I can to bring him back. But you need to go home and focus on having _that_ kid right now."

"I'll do no such thing."

"Well, you don't have control of my airship, so good luck with all of that. Go settle in - we're heading back to Lestallum to drop off the copy here, regardless. And see if you can't find him some pants!" Aranea yelled as Ignis pulled the clone behind him into the back chamber.

"Assignment?" he asked once they had entered the living quarters. 

"First, we should get you warm," Ignis replied, handing him some spare clothing. The pieces would be a bit too tall for his shorter frame, but they were better than just the simple coat. He turned as the clone started to dress himself. He supposed they would need to think of a name, something to call him instead of just "Clone." Or worse, whatever MT unit number he had been assigned. Though, it felt wrong deciding this without Prompto, too.

"Now, if you'll excuse me," Ignis said, once the clone had finished. He started to pull off his own wet shirt, when he noticed the clone didn't move. "Leave, please." When the clone stayed still, he added, "At least turn around."

The clone stood there instead, looking at him. 

"Fine," Ignis grumbled, turning himself around and pulling the shirt and wet trousers off. As much as he disliked being on display, wet clothing was worse. He even quickly slipped his underwear off, grabbing a clean pair, pajama pants, and a comfy sweater, putting them on in record time. The sweater seemed a bit tighter than he remembered - he would definitely need to see Iris and get her help before they left for Gralea. Something better suited to address the cold, too.

When he turned back to the clone to deal with him, he had to stop. He looked even more like Prompto now, his damp hair just like when Prompto came out of the shower, his signature style tamped down as he left it dry to the air. Those large violet eyes staring at him without any judgment, just need. "Assignment?" the clone said again.

Ignis would have given anything to have found Prompto in the facility. To grab him, run his fingers through the hair on the back of his neck as he peppered kisses along his jawline, telling him how much he loved him and how he'd never, ever let anyone separate them ever again. How much he didn't care about Prompto's origins and it didn't change anything in his eyes. He would take him back to Lestallum and lay him in his bed, feel his skin underneath his fingertips, as if to memorize every freckle and muscle to never be forgotten again. Smell his scent, the scent of his mate, that reminded Ignis of summer, a slight coconut and lotion scent that never failed to warm him from the inside. Taste the salt on his lips and cheeks as happy tears rolled down his face, so happy to be home, safe. He would have wiped away any dirt, mended any wound, and simply lay with Prompto in bed for a day, refusing to let anything divert his attention. Place Prompto's hand on his belly and feel the warmth through his skin. Ignis was never outwardly affectionate toward the bump in front of others, but Prompto, Prompto would want to press his lips to his navel and talk to their son or daughter, and coo endlessly, making up for the last seven months as quickly as he could.

"Specs," Aranea's voice crackled over the intercom. "We're lifting. It'll be about six hours, you might want to try to get some sleep."

Ignis had to swallow and take a step back, losing himself too quickly in the fantasy.

"Come here," he said gently to the clone. "Lie on the bed. Like this." As the clone complied, he motioned for him to turn onto his side, his back pressed up against the wall. "Your assignment," Ignis said, taking a deep breath. "Protection. You'll guard me until we land."

The clone nodded, understanding and seemingly at ease for the first time since exiting the stasis chamber.

Ignis waited until he was settled and then turned the cabin light off, sitting on the edge of the bed and slowly scooting himself back and until he was close to the clone. He knew he would regret this later, the guilt of using a substitute to tourniquet his aching emptiness. "Give me your hand," he said, raising his left, gently pulling the clone's arm forward and wrapping it around himself. 

Alpha - the clone had been the wrong dynamic. Ignis wasn't sure if that had been a mistake, or if Besithia himself had been Alpha and it was Prompto who had the genetic change. But the clone smelled much the same, the summer and the ocean and the beach. Just...the Alpha version. Something Ignis was sure he could talk himself into ignoring, for just a short while.

He pressed the clone's hand to the underside of his belly, up underneath his sweater, directly on his skin, and laid his own on top, quickly feeling the warmth soak through and melt the chill that he had been ignoring since he opened the tank. He could feel his child settle, finally ready to fall asleep after such a day; it wasn't their father, but maybe, just like for Ignis, it was close enough to get them through the night. "Just like this," he said, quietly, breathing deeply. It had been so long. So long since the train. Since Altissia. Since Insomnia.

The ordeal must have been exhausting for the clone as well, as Ignis heard him yawn, his breathing steadying out as he scooted closer in for body heat as he fell asleep.

"I'm sorry, Prompto," Ignis whispered to the dark. Just this once. Just a blanket, like a child would need to get through a scary night. "I'm coming to find you, love. Wait for us."


End file.
